The Last Rose
by Sperenza Snape
Summary: The Wizengamot orders Snape to marry and a miraculously alive Dumbledore finds inspiration from a Muggle television show to help find his friend a wife. !AU simply because I assume that Dumbledore is, in fact, alive.! HGSS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not delusional enough to believe they are really mine. They will always belong to Jo. Thank goodness for fanfiction where we can at least play with them for a spell.

**Chapter One: The Ball and Chain**

Deep inside the Ministry of Magic, on Level Ten in Courtroom Ten to be precise, two men had been sitting in silence for the better part of an hour. One of the pair had not moved so much as an inch during the entire time they had been left alone. Of course, it was not surprising that he had not moved as he was restrained with heavy chains to a chair in the middle of the room. The only sign that he was cognizant of his surroundings was the occasional scanning of his dark eyes over the chairs that, once filled, would decree his fate. Finally, a quiet voice broke the silent monotony.

"It will be all right, my boy."

The chained man's lips curled into a cynical sneer as he spoke to the man representing him. "I highly doubt it, old man. The fact that I am sitting here chained next to man I supposedly murdered should be enough to tell you that it will not be bloody all right!"

"Severus, they cannot punish you for a crime you blatantly did not commit."

With great effort, the chained man turned his head to glance despondently upon his friend's face. "But they have and they will, Albus."

Rufus Scrimgeour had, in fact, made sure that Severus Snape was incarcerated in Azkaban for a crime he had not committed, and the Minister of Magic was determined to see him remain there. While not as incompetent as his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge, Scrimgeour was still a politician needing to win the public's approval, and since no man was more hated by the public than the one currently chained to a chair in Courtroom Ten, Scrimgeour had invested who knows how many Galleons in the proper pockets in his efforts to lock Severus Snape away for good.

Certainly, _if_ the Wizarding public had been told that Severus Snape had been spying on Voldemort on behalf of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, _if _they had known that Dumbledore's murder was nothing more than a carefully planned ruse, then he might have been seen as a hero. _If_ the public knew how Voldemort's demise had depended upon the distractions caused by Dumbledore's miraculous appearance and Snape's heroic defense of the boy-he-lived-to-hate, then they would given him an Order of Merlin First Class, thrown a parade in his honor, and generally made his life hell by singing his praises. However, the public did not know these things. In fact, Scrimgeour was making every effort to make sure that the public never knew.

Ministry officials had only arrived at the Final Battle after Harry Potter had fulfilled his destiny and killed the dark wizard. Furthermore, they had only arrived after the members of the Order had apprehended and restrained the surviving Death Eaters. If the public knew that the Ministry, specifically Scrimgeour, had nothing to do with the events that had finally brought peace to their world, well, needless to say, public opinion would have been right different. With a small contingent of wizards and witches backing Kingsley Shacklebolt in the upcoming election, Scrimgeour's place of power depended upon no one knowing the truth about Severus Snape.

Thus, no one outside the members of the Order and the members of Wizengamot even knew that Albus Dumbledore was still alive, and they could not tell anyone. Scrimgeour, professing that the facts of the trial needed to be kept confidential in order to protect the rights of the defendant, had tricked them into taking an Unbreakable Vow of silence. It wasn't surprising, therefore, that the chained man had little faith in the outcome of his trial, even if the living, breathing proof of his innocence was sitting next to him and speaking in his defense.

The silence in the courtroom was broken when the door to the outer corridor opened and loudly banged against the stone wall. Scrimgeour, acting as if he were the man of the hour and with an air that spoke loudly of the verdict he fully expected to be rendered, prowled into the room and took his place on a bench to the right of the defendant and his counsel.

"Enjoy your last minutes of freedom, Snape," he growled.

"You cannot expect to actually win, Rufus," Dumbledore spoke, without so much as a glimmer of a twinkle in his eye. "You have no case."

"I fully expect that the court, particularly under the leadership of our young but talented new Chief Warlock, will support the Ministry."

"Percy Weasley may have a tendency to bow down to the Ministry, Rufus, but I can assure you that he is a good boy. He will not let this travesty of justice stand."

Pawing at his thick beard, Scrimgeour chuckled. "Oh, he is a good boy -- good at doing whatever it is the Ministry wants him to do. You always underestimated people's desire for power, Albus."

"And how exactly do you expect to explain away my presence when all of this is over?" The elderly wizard's fuchsia robes, complete with orange and purple stars, shook in his attempt to control his anger.

"Do you forget taking an Unbreakable Vow, Albus? Did you honestly believe that I was going to release you and the others from your silence? For such a great wizard, you are a mug."

Whatever response Dumbledore might have given was interrupted when the door behind the judge's balcony opened, and the members of the Wizengamot quietly made their way to their seats. The two Aurors that had been stationed in the outside corridor entered the courtroom and stationed themselves on either side of the doorway. Once everyone was settled, Percy Weasley, the youngest Chief Warlock ever to have brown-nosed his way into power, began to speak.

"Severus Snape. You have been charged with treason against the Ministry as a follower of Tom Riddle, formerly known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as well as Vold--. Yes, well, you have the idea. You are further charged with conspiracy to commit murder, as well as the use of an Unforgivable in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Before we render our verdict, do you have anything else to say in your defense?"

Not a muscle moved in Snape's pale face, and no sign of emotion pierced the darkness of his eyes.

"Apparently not. Does the defendant's counsel have anything further to say in his defense?"

Dumbledore, peering over the rim of his spectacles, directed a firm gaze on the condescending wizard. "I do believe that nothing further is needed."

"Right. Well, then if there are no further arguments in favor of the defense, I would like to say a few words myself." A beastly cough from Scrimgeour prevented him from speaking any further.

"With all due respect, I believe that there remains nothing more to be said. If you could simply sentence the man, the rest of us would be glad to put this all behind us."

Percy Weasley turned sharply towards the interfering Minister. "Thank you for announcing your presence, sir." Before Scrimgeour could look too pleased with himself, the Chief Warlock continued. "What I have to say is _particularly_ related to you."

This caught Snape's attention, and with one raised eyebrow, he allowed himself to show the first signs of interest in the proceedings. To his right, Dumbledore began to happily stroke his long white beard with his one good hand.

"To -- to m-me," the Minister blustered. "I fail to see what I have to do with anything."

"You see, sir, that is where you are wrong." He silently nodded at the two Aurors who had made their way from the back of the courtroom to stand on either side of the Minister.

"Sir, I am going to have to ask for your wand," one of them whispered.

"WHAT?!" Quickly standing, Scrimgeour found himself face-to-face with the wands of the two Aurors. "Weasley, what is the meaning of this?"

"Sir, you will hand your wand to Auror Smythe or I am afraid I will have to ask them to restrain you."

"Weasley, you wouldn't be sitting there now if not for m--" His rant was cut short by the woman on the Chief Warlock's right.

"Rufus, do -- what -- he -- says." Griselda Marchbanks enunciated every word precisely and fixed the protesting man with a sharp glare.

The Minister looked to his right and left, hoping to see that the Aurors might side with him, and seeing no sympathy in either of their eyes, he reluctantly handed over his wand. Once he was seated, Percy Weasley's voice again began to fill the stone courtroom.

"I have always had a great respect for the power and influence of the Ministry. I have always seen it as my duty to serve and work towards the goals of the Ministry. In all this time, however, I never thought I would see the day that I would be disgusted with those I served. Rufus Scrimgeour, you have made a mockery of this court and your position. You are to be taken to Azkaban and will be held until precise charges are determined and a court date set."

Before the Minister could start yelling again, one of the Aurors cast a quick _Silencio_, and the pair dragged him towards the back of the room. Chuckling, Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth and, with a contented sigh, waved good-bye to the irate politician with his blackened right hand.

"Sir, could we have your attention, please?!" Percy's haughty tone signaled that while he could rebel enough to lock away the Minister of Magic, he was still a condescending arse. Of course, as his friend's life hung in the balance, Dumbledore once again became serious.

"As for you, Mr. Snape. I would think that you would have a little bit more interest in these proceedings than you have shown." The pompous youth glanced at the still shackled man.

Knowing that it was in his best interest to do so, Snape managed, with only the merest pursing of his mouth, a brief nod at the Chief Warlock's comment.

"Mr. Snape, as Albus Dumbledore is blatantly not dead, we cannot prosecute you for his murder. As Dumbledore himself has testified that the events that led to this charge were on his orders and a product of an Unbreakable Vow between him and yourself, we cannot prosecute you for conspiracy to commit murder."

Dumbledore's shout of joy and clapping hands were abruptly silenced by a glare from the Chief Warlock.

"We are not, however, convinced that you are a redeemed Death Eater, and we are concerned for the safety of the public should we decide to set you free."

"Mr. Weasley! I --" Again, Dumbledore's outburst was interrupted.

"That is Chief Warlock Weasley, Mr. Dumbledore. With all due respect, sir, I am the one currently holding this position, not you. It would behoove you to cease and desist with your outbursts."

"Am I at least allowed to speak on behalf of Mr. Snape, Chief Warlock Weasley?"

"You were given that chance, sir," holding up a finger to silence the protest that was inevitably coming. "For now, I ask that you remain silent until we have explained our decision." If it was possible for Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes to glare, they were definitely glaring now.

"Now, Mr. Snape, while you and your counsel have provided evidence that you were, in fact, a spy during Voldemort's latest rise to power, we cannot ignore the fact that you were at one point a loyal Death Eater. Furthermore, in your so-called redemption, you have terrorized countless students, and while none of them have died in your classroom, none of us feel that any one of your former pupils would claim to have felt safe under your care."

"Chief Warlock Weasley, Severus Snape has already been tried for his former days as a Death Eater, and you cannot put someone on trial for their personality as a teacher!"

"Mr. Dumbledore, do I need to call the Aurors?"

The formerly presumed deceased headmaster and once head of the Wizengamot silently took his seat, uncharacteristic anger radiating off him in waves. To his left, Severus Snape's eyes narrowed in a flinty squint as he wondered where exactly this was headed.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Dumbledore. Now, we unanimously decided that we cannot simply let Mr. Snape free without any check on his behavior. After much deliberation, one of our members came up with a solution that we feel most fitting. Ms. Umbridge, if you would please explain your plan?"

With a girlish giggle and an adjustment of a pink bow perched on her head like a petrified butterfly, Dolores J. Umbridge stood from her seat in the judge's balcony. An almost imperceptible growl emerged from Snape, and Dumbledore placed his hand on the man's arm in an effort to calm him.

"Thank you, Chief Warlock Weasley." The echo of her voice against the stone walls made her high-pitched, squealing tone a reverberating annoyance. "One of the chief arguments in Mr. Snape's defense was that his poor decisions and often violent treatment of others was due to his unfortunate childhood. A boy raised without affection, an awkward teen abused by his classmates, and a lover rejected in favor of his greatest enemy. While we, the members of the Wizengamot, can sympathize with the circumstances of Mr. Snape's life, we need to be sure that he will not be driven to any more unfortunate choices. Thus, at my suggestion, we have determined that Severus Snape should be allowed to go free and become a fully functioning member of the Wizarding community _if_ he forms an attachment with someone who will love him and keep him in line. Specifically, we order Severus Snape to marry, and if he chooses not to marry, he will be exiled from the Wizarding community and his wand will be broken."

SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS & SS &

A/N: I apologize for the cliffy. I know, I hate them as well, but they do make for more exciting chapters. This is my first attempt to write fanfiction, however, so feel free to offer me any advice. I'm a big girl. I can take it. Also, I am an American, and while I am doing my best to research proper British phrasings, I know I will make mistakes. Please let me know, if you find any errors.

Finally, this story was inspired by a fabulous plot bunny left by breemcgregorthefirst on the Snape Manor Yahoo! Group. Specific details of the lovely inspiration will be given in the next chapter, as to say too much now will destroy the lovely cliffy that I have just apologized for.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I am not delusional enough to believe they are really mine. They will always belong to Jo. Thank goodness for fanfiction where we can at least play with them for a spell.

**Chapter Two: To Spy or Not To Spy**

In her private chambers at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger sat staring blankly into the fire. Her research and notes on developing a cure for lycanthropy, which she had been working on non-stop since the end of term the previous week, sat on her desk forgotten. Her thoughts were completely consumed by the floo call she had just received. With a scream of frustration, she allowed her head to collapse on the back of her settee and proceeded to pound it repeatedly into the cushioned surface.

"No. No! NO!" Unfortunately, each negation that punctuated each pound of her head against the settee did not make the conversation via floo any less real.

"Um, Hermione? Is everything all right?"

Craning her head around to see her best friend standing in the doorway, Hermione sighed. "No, Harry. Everything is definitely not all right."

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Seize-The-Day and now Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, moved to sit quietly next to his friend.

"Well?!" Hermione turned her exasperated gaze upon her friend.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to ask what's wrong?"

"Hermione, love, I have known you long enough to let you work through any fit of temper before questioning you about anything."

With an "hmph," Hermione settled her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Now --" He paused to pick a few bushy strands of her hair from his lip. "What exactly is the matter?"

"Apparently Albus bloody Dumbledore is more trouble after being raised from the dead than he was before."

"Ahhh. Well, first of all, Hermione, a person can only be raised from the dead if they were, in fact, already dead." Hearing a slight giggle emerge from his sulky chum, he continued, "Seriously, what has Albus done this time?"

"He has completely destroyed my plans for the summer!" Forcefully pushing herself from the settee, Hermione began to pace in front of her hearth. "Harry, you know how much I planned to accomplish this break. I specifically worked until I was knackered this past term brewing all the potions Poppy would need for next fall and completed my lesson plans for next year just so that I would have the entire summer to devote to my research. Now, thanks to Albus, I will be lucky if I so much as have time to organize this mess." Her hands fell heavily atop the desk she had stalked over to.

"You know how important this is to me, Harry. Remus becomes weaker and weaker every transformation. The small improvements I made in the Wolfsbane haven't made any difference." With a sigh, she sat in the chair behind her desk and let her head fall into her hands. "What am I going to do?"

"What exactly has he asked you to do?"

"Well….Of course, you heard about the Wizengamot's decision regarding Professor Snape."

"Yes!" With an amused grunt, Harry looked over at his friend. "Hermione, I know you are talented and brilliant in everything you do, but seriously, even you can't help that man. I feel badly for him, I do, even if I don't like him. It's really a good thing Dumbledore revealed himself to the Order before the battle, or else I would have killed him on sight. Of course, now, maybe he wishes that I had." He continued to chuckle to himself while Hermione made her way back to the settee and flung herself onto the cushions.

"It isn't funny, Harry. That is exactly what Dumbledore expects me to do."

"What? Help him?"

"_Yes_." Frustration began to set in again, and Hermione resumed hitting her head forcibly back against the cushions.

Harry reached one arm out and stopped her head on its downward path. "You know, if you want these pillows to do any damage, you might want to think about working on your transfiguration skills again. You might need to regardless if Snape expects his job back because I certainly don't intend to give up my position."

"I actually do need to. Minerva hasn't said specifically, but she mentioned that she wanted to offer me an apprenticeship and was willing to work my schedule around my ongoing research. She might as well have come out and said that Professor Snape was returning and I wouldn't be teaching Potions any longer."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not really. Not like I _thought_ it would. I guess knowing that I will still be at Hogwarts helps, and Professor Snape deserves to have his life back."

"Well, he won't be coming back if he can't find a wife. How exactly does Dumbledore expect you to help? He doesn't expect you to marry him, does he?"

"No!" Hermione felt a small tinge in her gut at the thought of marrying Severus Snape. She did not want to examine that too closely. "No, Harry, he doesn't expect me to marry him. Although I do have to pretend to be one of the contestants."

"Contestants?! Is Albus planning on hosting a game show? 'Who Wants to be Mrs. Greasy Git'? No, 'Beauty and the Bat'? Or how about 'So You Think You Can Marry Snape'?" Harry's green eyes shown with mirth, and he fell forward on the settee, rolling with laughter.

"Harry, as much as it warms my heart to see you laughing and joking like you really mean it for the first time in, well, forever, it - isn't - funny!"

From her lap, where his head had fallen, Harry looked bashfully up at his friend. "Are you telling me that Albus is really hosting a game show?" He was trying, genuinely trying, to keep the smile off his face.

"Yes, Harry! Albus is really hosting a game show! Or the closest thing to one that a person could find outside of a Muggle telly."

Pulling himself out of Hermione's lap, Harry looked into his friend's face for any sign that she was joking. He saw no such sign. "Now you really have to explain."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione began to tell her story.

"Well, you know how Albus spent an entire year in the States while he was 'dead.'" Seeing Harry nod, she continued. "Well, he really got addicted to this Muggle show _The Bachelor_."

"_The Bachelor_?"

"Yes. According to Albus, the show features a single man in pursuit of a wife. The show's producers find fifteen eligible women who are willing to marry a man they have never met, and the man dates them all in order to figure out who he is going to marry."

"One man dating fifteen women? Don't tell Ginny, but if she and I weren't getting married in a month, then I would grab the nearest Portkey for the states."

Hermione delivered a quick smack to the back of Harry's head. "Harry, that wouldn't be funny even if you hadn't put Ginny through hell by breaking up with her and barely speaking to her until after the Final Battle."

"I know. I don't deserve her," adding with a sheepish grin, "but she loves me. What can I say?"

"You can say you're a lucky git and then be quiet so I can finish explaining."

"Right, boss."

"Now the man doesn't date all of the women for the entire show. He starts off with fifteen, then narrows the group down to ten, then seven, then four, then three, two, and finally, the so-called lucky one. He signals his choices by presenting roses to the women he would like to stick around at a rose ceremony that is held each week."

"Doesn't Albus know that Snape blasts roses into oblivion?"

"I don't think Professor Snape is going to be happy with any of this, Harry?"

"He is obviously going to have to go through with it regardless. If he wants to remain a wizard, that is! Of course, Albus could try to organize something a little closer to Snape's tastes. He claims to be the man's friend. He should know what Snape would or would not go for."

"Aside from Albus merely being Albus, I do think he is trying to give the professor some say in the matter. Apparently, the Ministry wanted to simply assign Snape a wife, and here is the creepy part, Dolores Umbridge was looking to fill the role."

"NO!"

"Yes. Although I am not sure why. I would say that she is trying to plot revenge on Professor Snape for not changing his lessons during our fifth year, but according to Albus, it was her idea that Snape would have to marry in order to go free. I think she has some sort of bizarre obsession with the man."

"Oh, Hermione, that is just sick. No one, not even Snape, deserves to be stuck with that woman for all eternity."

"I know, Harry. I know. Somehow she has managed to become one of the contestants, and the Ministry has decided that she must remain one at least through the top four choices."

"How are they able to dictate something like that? I mean, what if Snape actually has four women he wants to keep around?"

"Albus says that the Ministry wants to be sure that there is an insider keeping them abreast of the situation."

"So, she's a spy?"

"An all too willing one, if you ask me."

Harry nodded. "Well, it does make sense that the Ministry would want to make sure that Snape is taking this seriously. It isn't like they can turn on the telly and watch the show."

"True, but they do want to 'watch the show' as it were. They are placing charmed mirrors in every location that any of the "Bachelor" events will be taking place. Professor Snape and all contestants will be watched at all times. We even have to talk to the mirrors, relaying our thoughts about the process, the contestants, and our _feelings_. Oh Merlin, I can't do this!"

"Why are you doing this, Hermione?"

"Well, if the Ministry has a spy, the Order needs one too, right? My 'mission' is to keep an eye on the other women, suss out as much information about them as I can, listen in on their conversations about Professor Snape, and do my best to deliver that information to Professor Snape in order to help him make the best decision he can under the circumstances."

Scratching the remains of his scar that had almost completely disappeared after Voldemort's demise, Harry gazed thoughtfully over at his distraught friend. "I hate to admit it, but it is a good plan."

"I know, and I want to help the professor. He deserves it after everything."

"I wouldn't go that far, Hermione. I do, however, know how important it was for you to work on a cure for Remus. Did you ask Albus if anyone else could be the spy?"

"I did, and there is no one else. Tonks is married to Remus. Ginny is marrying you. Luna and Ron will be announcing their engagement any day now. There is no one, and before you suggest Minerva, don't bother. She is already a contestant, a willing one."

"Wait a minute! I thought Minerva was with Albus!"

"That makes two of us. I thought she would have been the perfect option because the Ministry didn't know anything about their relationship, but there is not any relationship for them to know about. Apparently, they ended up like Ron and me -- good in theory, a disaster in practice."

"And she is a willing contestant?" Harry's green eyes grew wide behind the round black frames of his glasses. Hermione merely nodded in response.

"Huh."

"My thoughts exactly." For the second time in their conversation, Hermione felt a strange sensation in her stomach.

"Maybe in return for the information you provide him, Snape will give you advice on your research?" Harry suggested, trying to lift his friend's spirits.

"It's a thought." Hermione acknowledged with a small smile. "But I am not going to get my hopes up."

"It never hurts to try, Hermione."

"I know, I know. Any road, I shouldn't be complaining. Your task is much harder."

"My task?!" Harry's voice broke for the first time since he had past puberty. "What do you mean my task?"

"Ah, well, I am sure Albus is going to be telling you soon, but you, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Every-Witch's-Dream, your job is to turn Professor Snape into a hero."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Harry. You are the head of public relations for this little endeavor. Luna will be working with her father at _The Quibbler_, but Albus feels we need the type of support only the great Harry Potter can provide. We actually have to find willing witches, you know."

"Oh, and Snape approves of me as his P.R. representative?"

"To be honest, I am not really sure how much Albus has told him. From everything Albus said, the professor would be more than happy just to accept being exiled, and since Albus has insisted that he at least try, he has told Albus to arrange everything for him."

"And so my job is to make sure women want him? Merlin, Hermione! Do you think Albus could have found something for me to do that is actually possible?"

Hermione bristled at this. "First of all, Harry, it isn't entirely impossible. He obviously has attracted Minerva enough for her volunteer, and disturbing as it is, Umbridge finds something in the man to want him for herself. More importantly, he is a hero! He is a brilliant and talented man, who has risked his life for your arse more times than I can even count! He may have not always been kind, and yes, he has been a complete prat to you and others, but he has had a miserable life. He deserves to be happy. He deserves respect! The least you can do, Harry, after everything, is take your sorry arse out there and tell people what kind of man Severus Snape really is!"

Taking in his friend's stormy glare, her rapid breathing, and flushed cheeks, Harry knew that he had really touched a nerve. In fact, he knew Hermione well enough not to even risk questioning the motivation behind her adamant defense of Snape. Although it seemed to him that she was perhaps a little more willing to participate in Albus' little game than she let on, whether she had admitted it to herself or not.

HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG &

Additional Disclaimer: _The Bachelor_ belongs to ABC and its parent company Disney. Any of the elements of the show are not mine.

A/N: As promised in the previous chapter, the general details of breemcgregorthefirst's intriguing plot bunny are as follows:

"The Bachelor, Snape Style:

Starts off at Hogwarts during the summer (no students) Dumbledore has a wicked idea to try and get Snape a woman… after seeing a muggle TV show called the Bachelor! So all the women who want to compete for his affections are called to Hogwarts. (this can be after the war and him a hero might make it better… or you can just though in us fanfition types that are in love with him anyway… please just make sure you have ALL different types of women not just pretty ones … thanks) of course Snape is NOT pleased by this!"

She had a few other specific requests, which I will acknowledge as they come up in the story, but I can't give all the fun bits away up front!

As always, any advice for a first time fanfic writer or observations of blatant Americanisms are welcome. Of course, I am also eager to hear what you think of the story. Thanks for reading. Ta-ta, till next time.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I am not delusional enough to believe they are really mine. They will always belong to Jo. Thank goodness for fanfiction where we can at least play with them for a spell.

Additional Disclaimer: The Bachelor belongs to ABC and its parent company Disney. Any of the elements of the show are not mine.

**Chapter Three: Countdown to the Contest**

The following month was a busy time for everyone involved in 'Project: Get Snape Hitched.' Hogwarts had been chosen as the primary location for the various events and would serve as housing for Snape and his prospective brides. Most of the faculty and staff had volunteered to remain over the summer break in order to prepare the castle and, knowing at least the volatile temper of the man around whom all was centered, to make sure any ensuing damage was kept to a minimum.

At the Ministry, they had created a special department devoted to the endeavor. Charms specialists were brought in to create the variety of mirrors that would allow the Ministry to keep an eye on proceedings. Permanent mirrors were needed in locations that would be used on a regular basis, such as the Great Hall and the chambers that Snape and the women would be staying in. Movable mirrors in various sizes were needed in case events took place outside on the grounds or if excursions took them away from the castle. In addition, Snape and each of the women would be given a mirrored amulet to wear that would cover occasions any of the other mirrors weren't nearby.

Of course, despite the recent conniving of the Ministry, Dumbledore still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, who still went by Tonks and whose pregnancy necessitated a break from the dangerous work of an Auror, found herself as head of the new department. Thus, Tonks was able to restrict somewhat the all-seeing eye of the Ministry's mirrors. The sound charm on the mirrors would only be active during "public" events, such as meals, the rose ceremonies and group dates. Privacy, argued Tonks, was essential in any courtship, and so Ministry officials would be able to watch but not listen in on private conversations and one-on-one dates. In order for the Ministry to get individual feedback from each of the participants, a special two-way mirror would be hung in the staff lounge, where Snape and each of the women would have to report at least once a week for an interview on their experience. All charms, however, would immediately become ineffective upon entering any of the bedchambers of the castle. Some things, according to Tonks, were better left unseen and unheard.

Harry took his mission particularly seriously. It wasn't that he cared so much about what happened to Snape -- after all the man was not only a complete git, but he had been driving Harry barmy during the weeks Snape was confined to Number 12 Grimmauld Place while the castle was being prepared. Harry, however, knew how important this was to Albus -- not to mention Hermione -- and he threw himself into informing the public of Snape's heroism. The first step was to let the public know that Albus was, in fact, alive. At the press conference Harry had organized, sheer mayhem had broken loose once the presumed dead Albus Dumbledore took the stage. The blissful melee had taken a turn towards disaster when a surly Snape stepped next to the older wizard. It didn't help that everywhere Harry dragged the man he would stand stiffly, arms folded across his chest and glaring at anyone who dared to look in his direction. Yet, even Snape's determination to act nothing less than the vile and angry Potions Master everyone knew and hated could deter neither Albus nor Harry from speaking on his behalf.

Without so much as a "Sonorus," Albus Dumbledore's quiet and peaceful voice reached every ear in the crowd. He spoke of the Order of the Phoenix and their role in destroying Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Ignoring the crowd's gasp at a name that no longer held any threat, he went on to speak of Severus Snape's dedication to the cause and the countless lives he saved. Occasionally, he would turn to Harry who would share accounts of the numerous occasions that Snape had saved his and his friends' lives. The gathered reporters laughed at hearing how he, Hermione and Ron had attacked him in the Shrieking Shack, and they quaked with fear when they heard how the professor had thrown himself between his students and a charging werewolf. Of course, Harry didn't mention that the werewolf was Remus; they didn't need that little tidbit of information.

Back and forth, as if taking turns catching a particularly jumpy chocolate frog, Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore captured the crowd's attention, and gradually, but not as gradually as one might have expected, they began to see the stiff man in black in an entirely new light. Finally, when the two speakers concluded the press conference with an appeal to those listening that Severus Snape should be shown the respect a hero deserves, every reporter, photographer and bystander present surged to their feet in a standing ovation.

The further narrowing of Snape's already glaring eyes might have suggested to some that he did not appreciate the crowd's applause. In actuality, he was so completely stunned at this reception that he reflexively narrowed his eyes to prevent showing a feeling that felt suspiciously as if it might be accompanied by tears. When various members of the press began to shout rapid fire questions at him, he turned to his old friend, allowing a bit of his shock and confusion to surface. Albus in turn informed the inquisitive audience that their new-found hero and former spy would not be answering any questions at that time, but that he and Mr. Potter would be happy to respond to any of their questions via owl. With a brief nod of goodbye, the three men disapparated from the stage and returned to the quiet kitchen in Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Later that evening, Harry found a sullen Snape exactly where he had left him hours before, staring blankly out of the kitchen window with a now cold cup of tea in his hands. Snape felt his presence and, without even turning around, addressed him.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? Help you?" Harry shrugged while leaning a hip against the long table in the center of the room. "Does it really matter why I helped you?"

Snape violently turned around and threw the cup he was holding into the empty hearth of the fireplace. Breathing heavily, eyes running over the scattered pieces of china, Snape whispered, "Why did you help me?"

"Well, I could say that I don't know because you don't deserve it. I could say that you are a right bastard and deserve the worst that comes to you." As he spoke, he sat in the chair nearest to him and began to absently stroke his now nearly invisible scar. Snape said nothing, but turned to look at the boy with interest.

"See, but I can't say those things because I know that, on a level I haven't come to terms with yet, none of those things are true."

"Spare me, Potter. You and I both know you detest me." He stalked over to the table but did not take a seat.

"It's true I don't like you. I don't think I detest you though. Not any more at least," glancing briefly at Snape's snarling face. "The thing is…Albus loves you, and Hermi--others that I love -- believe in you and respect you. They are willing to fight for you, and the way I see it, I just need to do my part."

"How noble of you, Potter. Well, I don't need you to do your part," he spit and began walking out of the room.

Harry turned in his seat and called after him before he could exit the kitchen. "You may not need me, but that doesn't mean I am not going to help. There are a number of people, people I care about, that would be hurt if they lost you. They seem to think that our world needs you, and they are actually right. You have done so much. Think of what you could do now that you are free."

"Free?!" Snape sneered with his hands resting on the door. "Don't forget, Potter, that I will not be free. I will be shackled to some witch I don't even know and whose mission in life is to keep me in line." Lifting the long fingers of one hand, he began to rub small circles on the bridge of his prominent nose.

"It may be better than you think, Snape. We are doing everything in our power to make sure you have some choice in the matter. Of course, with Albus running things, it's turning into a right circus." He paused as Snape lifted his free hand to silence him. "I know you don't want details, that you don't want any involvement in the process. When all is said and done, Sn-_Sir_, you are going to have become involved. You promised Albus you would try."

Snape turned to look at boy -- no, young man -- addressing him. He briefly pondered questioning Potter about what Albus had planned, but his anger over his circumstances got the better of him. Crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down his nose, he asked, "I do believe that showing up and taking a look at the witch chosen for me before I walk off into oblivion constitutes trying."

"Now you are being petty, Snape. Personally, I don't care if you _do _walk away never to be heard from again. But if you _think_ that will satisfy the people who care about you, and if you think they would not go looking for you, then you are_ seriously_ underestimating them." And with that, Harry moved past the sneering man and left the kitchen.

Snape stared at the door through which the young man had gone. He wondered why Potter seemed to think there were a number of people who genuinely cared about his fate. He knew Albus cared, but as great a wizard and friend as the old man was, he was only one man. Why did Potter act as if there were more, and _why_ had he briefly mentioned Miss Granger amongst their number?

A week later a carefully phrased article appeared in _The Quibbler_.

_**War Hero Seeks Eternal Love**_

_By Luna Lovegood_

_Over the past week, our readers have undoubtedly become aware of the great deeds and honorable actions of Severus Tobias Snape. He has captured our hearts and our imaginations, and owls have been flooding us with letters asking us to tell you more about this mysterious man in black._

_Well, patient readers, while little is known about our hero, we can tell you that he has been asked to return to teaching Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he will not be returning alone. The Potions Master is looking for eternal love and will only return to Hogwarts if he finds a special witch to join him in wedded bliss. Fifteen lucky women will be chosen and given the opportunity to win his heart._

_How often does a chance like this come around? Well, I, for one, can tell you that this is about a rare as spotting a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. So, witches, dress up in your very best vegetable accessories and make your way to Hogwarts this Saturday. Interviews for prospective brides will be run by none other than Albus Dumbledore himself._

_For those of you who unable to attend this weekend's selection, we are holding a special contest open only to our readers. Please send letters and a recent photograph (Muggle or Wizarding) to me, Luna Lovegood, in care of The Quibbler. One lucky witch will be chosen as one of the fifteen to have their chance at love._

Luna, in her own charming way, noticeably avoided any mention of Snape's early crimes and the fact that his search for "eternal love" was a product of the Wizengamot's verdict. Furthermore, even though Rita Skeeter's article in _The Daily Prophet_ was less carefully phrased, women all over the Wizarding community were picking out their best robes -- vegetable-free, despite Luna's helpful suggestions -- and preparing themselves to win a hero's heart.

SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG

A/N: To WannaBArtist, Phantom's Allure, notwritten, and Sampdoria, thank you so much for your support. As a new writer of fanfiction, I was over the moon to hear that you were enjoying my story.

For all my readers, this chapter completes all of the tedious back-story. I can now begin the game. Up next, Snape arrives at Hogwarts and the women arrive. Who will be the lucky fifteen? I wonder….


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I am not delusional enough to believe they are really mine. They will always belong to Jo. Thank goodness for fanfiction where we can at least play with them for a spell.

Additional Disclaimer: _The Bachelor_ belongs to ABC and its parent company Disney. Any of the elements of the show are not mine.

Warning: Implied slash. If this bothers you, I apologize, but I do not go into detail and it will only appear in this chapter and the next at most.

**Chapter Four: On Your Marks, Get Set…**

"All right, where is she?"

"She?" Albus Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at the man storming into his newly reclaimed office at Hogwarts. "To whom are you referring, Severus?"

"Don't play dumb with me, old man," Snape sneered, throwing himself into the chair facing the headmaster's desk. "Where is the stupid bint to whom you wish for me to shackle myself for all eternity?"

Dumbledore chuckled in response, his good hand stroking his thick white beard. "There is no _she_, Severus."

Snape's sneer immediately vanished. "So you have finally given up on me?"

Moving from behind his desk, Dumbledore ceased stroking his beard and placed his hand on Snape's shoulder. "No, my boy. I will _never_ give up on you."

Snape attempted to shrug off Dumbledore's hand, but the reinstated headmaster would not relinquish his grip.

"Severus, I only meant that there is no single _she_ for you to meet this evening. In fact, we have found fifteen lovely women that will be arriving this evening."

"Fifteen?!" Snape choked. "Albus, I realize that the wizarding world does not entirely reject polygamy. Draco has certainly made a happy household for himself with Misters Crabbe and Goyle. Of course, despite their behind the scene efforts for the light, who else would have any of them?"

Finally managing to shake off Dumbledore's hand, he continued, "Have you completely lost your mind? And do you really think that parents would accept such goings on here at Hogwarts under their darling little dunderheads' noses? And fifteen?! I realize that the Ministry believes I am a menace to society, but do they truly believe I need that many women to keep me in line?"

"Severus, don't be thick," Dumbledore sighed, while conjuring himself a chair to sit next to his friend. "You will only be choosing one of the women to be your wife."

Snape steepled his fingers and pressed them against his thin lips. He could not, however, hold back his weary sigh. "Albus, I told you to choose a woman and be done with it."

"I know that was your wish, Severus. If I had followed your advice, however, the Ministry would have insisted upon you marrying their candidate." Before Snape could interrupt, Dumbledore pressed on. "While you will be meeting her this evening and will be required to keep her around for the good portion of the process, I sincerely doubt you will be amused by the Ministry's matchmaking skills."

"Dare I ask who the Ministry believes I should marry?"

"Oh, I have no doubt you will know who she is when you 'meet' her this evening," Dumbledore laughed while making his way behind his desk once more.

"What precisely do you find amusing about this situation, old man?"

"In situations such as the one you find yourself in, Severus, one has to find something to laugh about."

Snape settled back in his chair and fixed his gaze on the ceiling of Dumbledore's office. "I can find nothing amusing in the Ministry's decision to dictate my life. If they can force me to marry, Albus, they can certainly find a way to force me to marry this mystery woman."

"Ah, Severus, but they cannot. While you will have to keep the Ministry's candidate around through the first three rose ceremonies, from that point on, you will have complete control over the selection process."

"Rose ceremonies? Process? Albus, what are you going on about?"

"It's simply ingenious, Severus. You see, while I was staying in America, I discovered this wonderful show on the Muggle telebox."

"Television."

"Isn't that what I said? Well, I discovered this show --"

Snape ceased searching the ceiling for answers and glared at the headmaster. "Albus, are you telling me that while I was completely cut off from the Order and forced to serve that evil bastard day in and day out, you were lazing about in front of an American telly?!"

"Severus, I wish that I could have found any other way to have circumvented the Unbreakable Vow you made with Narcissa." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye faded. "The only thing I regret more than the year you spent as a fugitive is the subsequent year you spent in Azkaban during the duration of your trial."

Conceding the point, Snape went back to his perusal of the ceiling.

"Now, as I was saying, I discovered a delightful show featuring a man in search of a wife. The creators of the show searched for women that the man, aptly referred to as 'The Bachelor,' would be compatible with. Over the course of several weeks, 'The Bachelor' is given the opportunity to get to know the women, and every week at a rose ceremony, he has a certain number of roses that he can present to the women that he would like to remain in the running."

"I hate roses."

"Yes, well, I considered potions, as that would be more appropriate, but then you would have to spend all your time brewing and would never spend time with your lovely options."

"I fail to see how that would be a problem," Snape remarked, still intent on his inspection of the ceiling.

"Severus, I suggest that you make every effort to get to know these women. While this process allows you a modicum of control over who you will marry, I can assure you that the Ministry will be watching closely." Dumbledore went on to inform Snape about the various mirrors positioned around the castle, the mirrored amulet he and the others would be wearing, and his belief that the Ministry's candidate would be spying on any behind the scenes action.

"So Big Brother is taking Scrimgeour's place as Minister of Magic?"

"I don't believe that Rufus has a brother," Dumbledore responded.

"Albus, you clearly invested far too much time in front of the television. Did you think to pick up a book while living amongst Muggles?"

"Please try to focus, Severus. The Ministry does not care if your wand is broken, but I do."

"I know, Albus." The anger left Snape's voice, and his tone turned weary. "However, the Ministry appears to be bound and determined to have their way. If, as you suggest, I will not approve of their choice/spy, would it not be easier to simply accept leaving the wizarding world for good?"

"I refuse to accept that as an option. Don't worry, my boy, I have my ways of ensuring that you are given as much information as the Ministry."

Only receiving a raised eyebrow as a reply, Dumbledore continued, "After all these years, Severus, haven't you realized that I am never without my spies?" A knock on the door interrupted him. "Ah, and there she is now."

Both men turned as the door opened.

"You wanted to see me, Albus?" Hermione Granger asked, emerging from behind the polished oak doorway.

"Miss Granger?!"

"Pro-Professor Snape! I was not expecting to see you until this evening, sir." Hermione's confused glance swung between her startled, but scowling, former professor and her conniving, but twinkling, employer.

"And why _exactly_ did you expect to see me this evening?"

Before Hermione could respond to Snape's query, Dumbledore quickly moved towards her and ushered her to the empty chair he had conjured earlier.

"Yes, my dear, but as you can see, it was important for Severus to be made aware of your presence before he meets the other candidates." He fixed his gaze upon his increasingly upset friend.

"Albus, now I know you have lost your mind. In what universe, would it ever be believable that I would remotely consider Hermione Granger as a prospective bride?" Snape's words became slower and slower as he emphasized each one with a healthy dose of disdain.

"Now, Severus --"

Hermione stopped the headmaster's explanation with a quickly lifted hand.

"It's all right, Albus. Allow me." She turned and locked her eyes with Snape's flinty glare.

"Professor, I am quite aware that there are no circumstances under which you would ever consider me as a potential wife. Furthermore, I know that you believe me to be little more than a pest and will only ever see me as one of Harry Potter's friends." Hermione's voice slightly wavered as she faced down the one man whose respect she always wished to earn.

Breaking eye contact, she directed the rest of her speech in her employer's direction. "I would think that I have some qualifications that the Ministry would view as compatible with your interests. Both of us place intellectual endeavors before social occasions. We both teach potions and pursue research in the field."

"Please stop selling yourself, Miss Granger. It is pointless and unattractive," Snape scoffed. "As for teaching potions, I do believe your year stint as a poor substitute is over."

"Enough!" Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed with a steely glint. "Severus, I can assure you that Hermione is far more believable than the Ministry's spy."

Hermione mumbled something that sounded remarkably like "frog-faced slag," but Snape ignored her, hoping that pretending the young woman sitting next to him did not exist would result in some sort of miraculous wish-fulfillment.

"You will attempt to get along with her, Severus, for the sake of this process and for my sanity in the upcoming year. Even after this process is over, Hermione is remaining at Hogwarts as Minerva's apprentice. Also, as you will no doubt discover, she has done a commendable job teaching Potions, and she deserves respect."

Hermione blushed under Dumbledore's praise and pondered how his defense of her echoed many of the sentiments she often expressed about the surly man currently berating her very existence.

"Most importantly," Dumbledore continued, "she is your spy. She is abandoning her personal plans for this summer to make sure that you have any and all information that will help you in making this most important decision."

"Albus, I can appreciate the need for an insider, but surely, there is someone else available outside of the know-it-all of the Golden Trio." Hermione could only roll her eyes as Snape's churlish tone grew perilously closer to whinging.

"There is no one else, Severus."

"What about --" Any protest Snape could make was immediately cut off by the now impatient headmaster.

"When I say there is no one else, I mean there is no one else. It is important that you realize this, Severus, because when you meet the other ladies this evening, there are several that you could genuinely hurt should you presume that they are spies."

"I sincerely doubt that any witch is interested enough in _this_," Snape emphasized with a brusque gesture towards himself, "to be hurt if I assume they are merely participating in this travesty as spies on my behalf. How much did you have to pay the silly bints to show up?"

Hermione risked a glance in her former professor's direction, wondering how he could believe that women would not be able to see his appeal. _Not that I personally find him appealing_, Hermione silently assured herself.

"Will you ever cease to underestimate yourself, my boy?" Dumbledore's impatience shifted to wistful sadness. "Every single witch in Britain wanted to ensnare their newfound hero. I personally went through every application to find those who would be sincerely interested in you and not your new found public status."

Hermione laughed, "Severus Snape, our new celebrity." When both glared in her direction, she quickly added, "I apologize. I only meant to say that in my head."

"Hearing voices now, Miss Granger? You might want to consult Poppy about that."

"_Both_ of you," Dumbledore emphasized by sternly looking at the bickering pair, "will have to find a way to work together. It is imperative that no one know that Hermione is a spy. She must appear to all involved that she is genuinely interested in becoming your wife, Severus. If any of the other women suspect she is not, they will not speak freely in front of her. As for you, Severus, the Ministry must not have any reason to question why you are keeping her around. You must appear to be sincerely considering Hermione as a potential mate."

After receiving a waspish "fine" and a contrite "yes, sir" in response, Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Did you bring the list of meeting places that I asked you to complete, my dear?"

"Yes, Albus," Hermione answered, placing two parchments on the headmaster's desk. "I went ahead and made two copies, one for you and one for Professor Snape."

Dumbledore opened one of the scrolls and quietly perused the list. At various intervals, he would either nod or shake his head. Snape only broke the silence when he suspected his mentor of holding back a chuckle.

"As Miss Granger has said that one of those parchments is for me, do you wish to share what it is you find so humorous?"

"What?" The headmaster looked up in a daze, appearing to have forgotten his audience. "My apologies, Severus, I was merely thinking. This," he lifted the other scroll of parchment, "is a list of the places where you will be meeting your potential brides this evening. Each location was determined based on responses that the ladies gave in their interviews. You will discover the identity of the women at these meetings."

He moved to hand the scroll to Snape, but paused to add, "You should be aware that while most one-on-one conversations that you have with the women will _not_ be overheard by the Ministry -- Tonks' privacy charm is a brilliant touch, I must say -- for these first meetings, they will see _and _hear everything that occurs." Dumbledore placed the scroll back on his desk and retrieved one of the mirrored amulets from a desk drawer.

"You will have to wear this at all times," he explained, handing the amulet to Snape. "Hermione, you will be receiving yours later with the rest of the candidates."

Once Hermione nodded, Dumbledore continued to speak. "Be careful what you say this evening, Severus, particularly in your meeting with Hermione. As I am the 'host' for these events, the Ministry has added a special communication charm between your amulet, Severus, and my own. Should a problem arise, you need merely touch the mirror and say my name."

"Fine, Albus," Snape sighed, placing the amulet around his neck. "May I go? I would like to enjoy my last few moments of freedom."

"In a moment, my boy. As mentioned, the meetings will be monitored by the Ministry. They will determine how long each meeting lasts. A bell will sound when they determine a meeting is over and feel it is time for you to meet the next candidate. You should not be required to spend uncomfortable amounts of time with someone you do not get along with. As head of the department for these proceedings, Tonks will make every effort to quickly end any meeting that she observes to be not to your liking."

"Meaning all of them."

"You aren't the only one who will be observed, Severus. Tonks will no doubt have a number of individuals looking over her shoulder, but she will do the best she can."

"Oh, I am sure _Mrs. Lupin_ will relish 'helping' me." As he spoke, Snape reached to grab the scroll on Dumbledore's desk. "May I go now?"

"Yes, Severus, you may go." Dumbledore continued speaking as Snape made his way towards the office door. "Try to remember that we are here to help you, my boy, and that not everyone carries around twenty-year-old grudges."

Snape paused in the open doorway to turn back and nod at his friend. "I know that you are trying to help, Albus. I will endeavor to behave myself during this bloody circus, even if I still end up having my wand broken."

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed.

"Albus, I promised you I would try. I have just promised to 'behave.' Do not press your luck. I do not have to like any of this, and I certainly refuse to promise to actually marry any of the bints. I will give them due consideration, but that is all I can promise."

"I understand, Severus. Should you need to speak to me at any time, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, Albus. Miss Granger," Snape spoke while unrolling the parchment and looking over its contents, "I will apparently see you this evening at one of these locations." Without a backward glance, he took his leave.

"Well, that went better than I had anticipated."

"Albus," Snape's head reappeared behind the door he had just exited. "Why am I meeting one of these witches in a girls' bathroom?"

HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS

A/N: I know that I promised that Snape would meet the women in this chapter, but his conversation with Dumbledore took on a life of its own. I did, however, make sure to include some interaction between Severus and Hermione, and I left a hint as to who one of the fifteen lucky women will be. Have no fear, the dates _will _commence in the following chapter.

On _The Bachelor_, the man usually meets his prospective brides as they arrive in groups by limo and he greets them individually at the door of some ostentatious mansion. However, one of the requirements of breemcgregorthefirst's plot bunny was to have Severus meet each of the women in separate rooms within the castle. I considered having the women first arrive by thestral-driven carriages, but that would be a bit redundant. Plus, my muse is screaming at me to get on with it already.

For those who missed the muggle literature reference, "Big Brother" is a reference to George Orwell's _1984_.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I have tried to answer you each personally. If I forgot anyone, I apologize. Please know that you have all made my day. Even my very first flame put a smile on my face.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I am not delusional enough to believe they are really mine. They will always belong to Jo. Thank goodness for fanfiction where we can at least play with them for a spell.

Additional Disclaimer: _The Bachelor_ belongs to ABC and its parent company Disney. Any of the elements of the show are not mine.

A/N: As Severus has to meet fifteen lovely options, these first meetings will take up more than one chapter. I did not want to keep any of you waiting until I completed all of these chapters, so here are the first three potential brides. Oh, I had also left a warning in the previous chapter that I would be including implied slash in this chapter. I was wrong. It did not choose to make an appearance. Now, on with the story….

**Chapter Five: Meetings of the Minds, Part One**

Later that evening, Snape found himself standing next to a particularly chipper Albus Dumbledore in the Entrance Hall.

"Are you ready to meet your lovely choices, Severus?" Dumbledore was practically singing with excitement.

"Albus, I was more prepared to meet my death in the final battle than I will ever be prepared to face whoever is lurking in the corners of this castle," Snape sneered, shaking his list of meeting locations.

"The second floor girls' bathroom?! The Gryffindor common room?!" He emphasized each appalling place with a jab of a long, pale finger. "I was actually pleased to live through Voldemort's demise, Albus, but I am quite sure I won't be pleased to live past this night."

"Don't be so dramatic, Severus. Each location will give you some insight into the character of the candidate you will be meeting."

"Then I can easily guess who I will be meeting in Gryffindor tower." Snape's rant dissolved into petulant mumbles that definitely contained the phrases "silly know-it-alls" and "blasted Golden trio."

"I would not make any guesses about this evening, if I were you, Severus," Dumbledore responded, while waving his wand to simultaneously activate the various mirrors placed around the castle. "Our amulets are now fully functioning, Severus. Do remember to call should you need any assistance."

Snape called after the headmaster, who had begun to walk away. "What do I do now?"

"You go on your first date, of course. If I am not mistaken, your first meeting is in my office." Dumbledore checked his own copy of the meeting locations. "Yes, it says here, 'Headmasters' Office.' I do wish you luck getting inside. For some reason, the gargoyle guarding my door has been rather testy this evening," he chuckled.

Again, Snape called after his friend. "Where are you going?"

"Severus, you will be fine. Now, go and meet your prospective brides. I am going to inquire if they need any assistance while they wait for you." As Dumbledore walked away, his excitement did, in fact, give way to actual singing. "I'm gettin' married in the mornin'. Ding-Dong, the bells are goin' chime."

"Not funny, Albus," Snape sneered after the headmaster, but he made no attempt to detain him further.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered to himself. His robes flared behind him as he made his way up the main staircase and towards his first date with, well, whatever is the opposite of destiny.

When Snape reached the corridor leading to the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he paused in horror. There, arguing with an unmoving gargoyle, was Dolores Umbridge.

"Jelly Pops! I said, 'Jelly Pops.'" The squat woman seethed at the silent statue, her pink bow shaking at each syllable uttered. "I know you hear me, you ugly piece of rubble. It says here," she held up a piece of parchment in front of the gargoyle's stony eyes, "the password to the Heads' Office is Jelly Pops. Now move your sorry arse out of the way!"

"Umbridge, please refrain from insulting any of the castle's enchantments." Snape had recovered himself enough to realize that the woman was, without question, the Ministry spy that Dumbledore had warned him about. Silently cursing the old man for his amusement over this particular candidate, Snape peered over his long nose and observed how she impossibly grew even more unattractive when flushed with anger. "They will not obey you simply because you order them to. Or didn't you learn your lesson from the last time you graced us with your presence?"

"Sev-er-us," the toad-faced woman simpered. "What a pleasure it is to see you again! I cannot begin to tell you how honored I am that you would consider me as your future wife." She stressed these last words by running her finger across one of Snape's crossed arms.

Quickly stepping far beyond her reach, he sneered, "I most certainly did not ask for you to be here, Umbridge. As I am sure you are aware, Albus and the Ministry determined the women that I will be forced to choose from."

"There is no need to be so formal, Severus. Please, do call me Dolores. We will be seeing quite a bit of each other over the next few weeks." She slowly began to approach him, a predator stalking her prey.

With each step she took towards him, however, Snape took one step back. He finally stopped her forward progress when he grasped the amulet around his neck, lifted it to his face, and addressed the invisible audience housed in the depths of the Ministry. "I have accepted your verdict. I will abide by the rules of this little game, and as you have demanded that Ms. Umbridge remain for several weeks, I will endeavor to be civil to the harpy. I refuse, however, to spend one minute more alone in her presence! Ring your blasted bell, before I hex --"

_Ding_.

"Thank you," and with a brief nod, Snape swept down the corridor in the direction from which he had come.

"Severus!" Umbridge called from behind him. "Severus, you need to give us a chance. Severus, I know that I can make you happy! Severus! Severus, you are going to regret this!"

Her girlish voice gradually began to fade as Snape made his way towards the stairs and slowly began to climb towards the seventh floor and a certain tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Reaching the tapestry, he paced three times in front of the opposite wall, only to pause with confusion when the door which appeared was covered by a beaded curtain covered in twinkling stars and glowing crystals.

"This is going to be a very long night," Snape sighed and moved to open the door. He quickly found himself trapped by the curtain of beads, stars, and crystals covering the door and blinded by a dense cloud of incense blanketing the room.

"For Merlin's sake, I can't see a blasted thing! Is anybody in here?" Snape managed to break free of the curtain, but immediately tripped over what felt like a large tower of pillows. As he landed, thankfully on top of several of said pillows, his hand brushed against a cool, round object, causing what sounded suspiciously like an empty bottle to roll across the remaining uncovered stone floor.

"If anyone is in here," he repeated, "I cannot see a bloody thing behind this stinking cloud."

"The Inner Eye does not require physical vision." The eerie voice called from inside the haze.

"Bugger," Snape whispered, trying to draw several pillows over his head for cover.

"Severus," the voice grew closer, "I have seen our future."

Snape scrambled amongst the pillows, desperately trying to put distance between himself and the speaker.

"Severus, you cannot ignore the Inner Eye." A hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed hold of one struggling black-clad leg.

"Sybill, unhand me this instant!" The hand was removed from Snape's leg, but large glasses and grossly magnified eyes quickly appeared directly in front of his face.

"I see you."

Snape screamed. It was a manly scream, but a scream nonetheless.

"Albus Dumbledore!" he yelled, grasping his amulet as if his life depended upon it.

"Yes, Severus?" At Dumbledore's response, Snape breathed a sigh of relief and Sybill Trelawney gasped.

"Help!" Snape called as Trelawney's hands reached to grasp his robes.

"Did you hear it? The Inner Eye has spoken! It knows you are here and has identified you as my destiny!"

_Ding_.

The smelly stench of incense and the overhanging cloud instantly wafted away, and Sybill Trelawney was left behind to observe a blur of black hastily exiting the now empty Room of Requirement.

"A selection to choose from?" Snape grumbled to himself and to the invisible minions watching his torture. "Women that I will be compatible with?" He paused for a flight of stairs to realign itself. "The power of options?!" He swept down the stairs towards the second floor and only stopped ranting once he reached the entrance to the girls' bathroom.

First, Umbridge. Then, Trelawney. Now, Toilets. Taking a deep fortifying breath, Snape gathered what was left of his senses and opened the door to face a waiting specter.

"Hello, Myrtle," he groaned.

"Hello, Professor. Welcome to my humble abode. Would you care to see my toilet?" the hovering vision asked.

Glancing at the chipped porcelain and rusty plumbing, Snape shivered but nonetheless answered, "That would be -- acceptable."

"Whee!" Moaning Myrtle squealed before disappearing through a stall door and causing a rather large splash of water to erupt from inside the stall's decaying walls.

Having escaped the majority of the flood, Snape used a corner of his formerly immaculate robes to open the stall door and peered inside. Only Myrtle's head was visible, emerging from inside 'her' toilet. Her fingers were propped on the open seat, and her chin rested on her knuckles.

"You are rather tall and quite grumpy. I do believe that we will get along splendidly."

"Well, Myrtle," Snape sighed, "I must admit you have quite an advantage over those I have already met this evening."

_Ding_.

"Ahhaannnhhhh," Moaning Myrtle moaned. "No one ever stays for long in my toilet. Why does no one want to stay and visit me in my toilet?"

As disturbed as Snape was, he had to admit she was the best option thus far. So, for the first time that night, he remained to bid his date a proper farewell.

"I do believe that we will meet again, Myr-my dear." Snape congratulated himself on the act he was putting on for the Ministry and added a courtly bow.

"Do you mean that you will come back and visit my toilet?"

Once again, he glanced at the gloomy and dirty interior of the second-floor girls' bathroom. While silently casting every non-verbal, wandless cleaning charm he could remember, Snape responded, "It seems quite possible that I will be returning to your toilet."

With a final nod in the direction of a surprisingly gleeful Moaning Myrtle, Snape swept from the bathroom and made his way towards, may the gods save him, the Gryffindor common room.

SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG & SS & HG

A/N: Well, Severus has met with the first three women. Up next, Gryffindors, outdoor excursions, and much, much more.

The song Dumbledore sings is from the musical _My Fair Lady_.

Again, thanks for reading and your generous reviews. Cheers!


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